Soothed by Corruption by BelovedStranger
Divulgence
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
This story has been REVISED as of 2026. I have made major changes to the previous plot! So please, read through the first six chapters before continuing to the ‘newest’ chapter.
Years ago, I had no idea where this story would go. Now I do. Please be patient as I continue to write this sequel. I hope you enjoy the journey as much as I am writing it :)
PS: This work has no benefit of a beta. Sorry in advance for any typos!
Word Count: 4,726
Glossary:
Daimyo—Great Name/Feudal Lord
Bessō—Villa (refers to a secondary residence)
Shiro—The Entire Castle Complex
Tenshu—The Main Keep/Central Tower
Ishigaki—The Stone Foundations/Stone Walls
Yagura—Watchtower Or Turret
Shuden—Main Hall/Residence
Ima—The Family’s Everyday Sitting/Living Space (where they relax together)
Aijin—Lover
Hime—Princess; Lady
Youkai—Daemon
Inuyoukai—Dog Daemon
Miko—Priestess; Shrine Maiden
Ningen—Human
Sama—Lord
Onna—Woman
Haori—A Loose Garment Resembling A Coat
Inugami—Dog god/Spirit
THE BESSŌ WAS as Sesshomaru remembered; though, it had been over two centuries since he’d last been in residence. Sequestered high in the mountains that divided the northern and southern regions of his vast lands, the villa was a well-kept secret, even amongst those of his bloodline. It was here his mother had given birth to him, where he’d lived the earliest stages of his youth when he was but a pup, weak and vulnerable.
It hadn’t been until he’d matured to early adolescence that his father had moved Sesshomaru to The Western Shiro, a grand fortress where the daimyo of the Western Lands resided while inhabiting the mortal realm. The shiro was magnificent, its towering, five-tiered tenshu rising above the imposing fortifications. The entire complex was built on a high stone foundation, with plastered, earthen walls surrounding the central tower, and yagura standing sentinel at every corner—defenses that were ultimately unnecessary, but whose very existence conveyed unrivaled strength. Instead, the shiro’s true safeguards came from an impenetrable barrier, its power drawn from enchanted stones buried deep into the ground bordering the ishigaki.
The complex’s architectural design was of such magnitude that it was impossible for ningen to replicate, whereas it was the mirror image of his shiro in the spirit realm. The High Shiro of the West, known simply as The High Shiro, had been Sesshomaru’s main seat of residence for the past half century, away from the nuisance of humanity.
Sesshomaru would have preferred to take Kagome to either shiro, where he could have provided her with the upmost luxury and indulge her smallest whim. In part, to make up for his past transgressions against her, and to replace her woe after their confrontation with her sister. But mostly, instinct drove him.
Except, he couldn’t, not if he wished to enjoy Kagome to himself. In peace. All because of her sister, Kikyo, along with his half-brother, Inuyasha. The meddlesome pair, he thought with no small irritation. Not when his flesh yet blazed with painful blisters, his chest charred black with grotesque, fiery-red scorch marks. His entire left hand was a burned ruin, while random patches marred his legs, back, and stomach. His nerves should have been seared beyond sensation—had he not been struck by holy fire.
Kagome’s sister had tried to kill him not two hours passed.
Determined to sever Kagome’s relationship with him—a vile daemon, Kikyo had sought to purify his very essence from existence, while his little brother had not only tried to keep Kagome away and ignorant of her sister’s veiled intentions, Inuyasha had, also, sought to turn Kagome against him. Instead, Kikyo’s machinations had the opposite effect. Kagome had left her sister. Willingly. Choosing him. However, Sesshomaru’s satisfaction was marred. In the face of Kikyo’s betrayal, Kagome had become melancholy.
For days, Kagome had been desperate to find her missing sister after the fateful night their village had been destroyed. Bandit forces had been terrorizing the region for months, with stories of their brutality spreading faster than their march across the land. Fearful, many had fled their homes before the danger could strike, leaving many villages abandoned. Save for those who were too foolish or too old and infirm to run. Countless were slaughtered, while others were sold as slaves.
Before Kagome’s village had met with the same fate as so many before hers, she’d journeyed alone to the Inu no Kami’s temple to pray for divine intervention. Only to be set upon by the very bandits she’d sought protection from. The kami had ignored her pleas of rescue. She would have died, but not before suffering at the hands of heartless men—if not for Sesshomaru. He had saved her—but only after she’d agreed to his terms. By forging a blood contract with an inugami, she’d been his to play with as he so chose.
Sesshomaru despised ningen, especially those with spiritual powers. Miko. Monks. All were self-righteous hypocrites with false, inflated egos.
Unsympathetic to the onna’s plight, he’d sought only his own enjoyment—at Kagome’s expense. He’d saved her merely to open her eyes to the darkness within herself, to corrupt the false innocence she drowned herself in. Only to learn that he’d been wrong. And to fall for the very goodness he’d always thought was little more than myth given credence by the sanctimonious bent.
Inugami did nothing for free, and yet, in the end, Sesshomaru had sought to help Kagome find her sister absent ulterior motive—a decision that had plagued him with uncommon doubts and appalling misgivings.
Kagome made him weak. And yet, she’d become the very beat of his black heart. He almost pitied her, because now, he would never let her go. She’d chosen him and with him she would stay.
He should be pleased—had immediate gratification not been denied him. The desire to pamper Kagome was not a whim but a consuming need. She was his. She bore his mark of possession on her flesh. Not by choice—admittedly. Regrettably. But she was his gem just the same. His pet.
To have his desire thwarted—by Inuyasha no less—was beyond irritating. The location of both Sesshomaru’s shiro was no secret, impenetrable though they were. Inuyasha and Kikyo would be at his gates soon enough, making a nuisance of themselves Sesshomaru had no doubt.
He understood what compelled Kikyo: an obsessive need for control. Over everything. Her circumstances. Her surroundings. Over others. She had no respect for another’s thoughts or feelings, not if their choices failed to align with her own desires. She thought herself more intelligent and cleverer than any other. And because she knew better, she felt it her right to govern.
But Kagome was no longer hers to control, Sesshomaru vowed viciously, his hand tightening around Kagome’s hip where he held her against his side. She was his.
Not to control.
At least, not anymore.
He wanted to share a life with her, not to rule over her. Not to force her to serve his every selfish wish regardless of her own thoughts or feelings. Should he revert back to his old ways and live selfishly, he would kill everything good he admired in his precious miko. He knew that now, and instinctively shed from that destructive path.
If Kagome noticed his agitation, the sight of his bessō distracted her, capturing her full attention. Her tiny gasp did not escape his hearing, and her whispered, “Beautiful,” caused the corner of his mouth to quirk upward, and through her, he saw his childhood home with fresh eyes.
Though it could not hope to compare to the grandeur of either of his shiro, his retreat held a dignified grace and elegance, along with an otherworldly splendor as a rolling mist enveloped the property. Nestled within the mountain peaks, the residence could only be seen from the skies, and only when hovering directly overhead.
The villa was surrounded by a twelve-foot wall that was meant more to protect pups from wondering off than to prevent outside threats from entering. Instead, a powerful barrier kept the residence safe. Few but the servants had access to come and go at will. Within the high walls stood the shuden, the main residence that housed the daimyo and his family. The elegant structure was one-story and situated at the heart of the property, with four attached buildings connected by roofed walkways: a dojo, bathing chamber, servants’ quarters, and kitchens, along with a few small storage sheds located by the servants’ lodging. Directly behind the shuden was a picturesque garden made mostly of decorative rocks and potted plants tastefully arranged.
There was, also, a hidden delight he looked forward to revealing to Kagome another day. Anticipation thickened his blood at the erotic images playing across his mind.
“What is this place?”
Ignoring his suddenly throbbing shaft, he focused on his companion. “My villa, Mist Haven.”
“Aptly named.” He could hear the smile in her voice, pitched low in reverent awe. “I’ve never seen the like before.” Then she shrugged, the gesture self-conscious. “You’ve seen the village where I was raised. There was nothing half as grand as this.” She waved her hand, indicating his retreat.
If she thought his villa was grand, he wondered what she would think of his shiro when he took her—and he would, their siblings’ machinations be damned. Perhaps he’d take her to the High Shiro. During their brief sojourn to the spirit realm, he’d noticed her curiosity despite her initial misgivings. What was more, hanyou were discouraged from roaming about the other world where full blooded youkai dwelled in mass.
Though Sesshomaru had chosen to reside at the High Shiro in recent years, during his adolescence, he’d spent a great deal of time at The Western Shiro, roaming the earthy plane. Causing mischief. At least, when he wasn’t learning all he would need to know when he finally took his rightful place as Lord of the Western Lands. During those years, he’d…indulged his baser urges.
As an inugami, there was a certain pleasure to be had in contracting with lowly humans. Short-sighted fools. Always eager to walk the easiest route in obtaining their heart’s desires. Only to be devastated when it came time to pay the asking price. An inugami did nothing for free. And Sesshomaru had taken particular delight in teaching them the error of their indolence.
Until Izayoi, Inuyasha’s ningen mother.
Since that fateful day, Sesshomaru had removed himself from the affairs of humans.
When Sesshomaru had first stumbled upon Kagome and her plight at the Inu no Kami’s shrine, he’d just came from his earthly shiro, and had been touring his lands, keeping abreast with the affairs of his vast holdings and the condition of his lands. He’d had no intention of lingering, or interacting with humanity, having lost the taste for it half a century past.
Until her, his precious gem.
“I had hoped it would please you,” he murmured as he controlled his youki cloud to take them closer to Mist Haven. As they descended, Kagome titled her head back to stare up at him.
“That first day we met, you wanted to bring me to your earthly domain. Instead, we went to my village. Was Mist Haven where you’d intended we go?” she asked, curious.
So, she remembered.
“No, it is one of my smaller retreats, known only to a select few.”
Recognizing his youki, the barrier allowed them to enter. He felt Kagome’s slight jump and knew she’d sensed their passage, but she made no comment.
“Why are we here, Sesshomaru? Not that I’m complaining!” she added on a rush. “I just—I thought… No, never mind.” She lowered her head, hiding from him. Just then, their feet made contact with the stone path that led to the daimyo’s residence’s front entrance.
The door slid open at their approach, where a servant—an inuyoukai—knelt, bowing low with forehead nearly touching the floor. With his arm around Kagome’s waist, he led her through the open door and along the reception hall. Behind them, he heard the servant gently close the door in their wake as they removed their footwear.
He sensed Kagome’s withdrawal. Not physically, but something was wrong. Not wishing for an audience for the weighty conversation he sensed brewing, he marched them through the public halls to the daimyo’s private residence at the back, and all but propelled Kagome through a final door another servant had opened, having followed them at a discrete distance. The moment his intention was made clear, the maid was quick to reach the door first, kneel, and slide the screen open with a deep bow, all in an elegantly trained maneuver without appearing to rush.
“Leave us,” Sesshomaru commanded with a sidelong glance at the maid.
“As you wish, Sesshomaru-sama,” she murmured, before closing him in with the miko. He heard the rustle of clothing and the quite pattering of footfalls as she departed.
Stepping out of his hold and pacing away, Kagome was breathless as she turned to confront him, ire flashing in her dark brown eyes. “What was all that about? Half-dragging me about like I was—”
“You are upset,” he interrupted, ignoring her tirade. “I would know why.” He tilted his head, more curious than upset. “Does the residence displease you?” Perhaps he should have taken her to the High Shiro after all. He still could, and would make the suggestion—after hearing what she had to say.
His own mother had not been pleased by her stay at Mist Haven, forced into seclusion during his youth, away from the extravagance she was accustomed to while residing at either shiro. But Kagome was different. As she’d mentioned before, she came from incredibly humble means. In comparison, Mist Haven possessed luxuries beyond her modest origins, but perhaps she wasn’t so different from his mother after all. Or the other females of his acquaintance. Perhaps Kagome had anticipated more, as many females would in light of his exalted station. Not that he minded. Whatever her desire, he would provide.
When she ducked her head and bit her lip, saying nothing, he frowned and grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. The burns along his hand stung. Ignoring the discomfort, he forced her to meet his gaze, then, using his thumb, he freed her abused flesh, and saw the imprint of her teeth on her plump bottom lip. “Tell me, aijin,” he coaxed gently. “I cannot rectify what I do not know.”
“Why are we here?” she repeated after a short pause, her eyes clouded with uncertainty. “You once told me you wanted to take me to your earthly domain. At the time, I didn’t realize you were a lord, not until our visit to the spirit world.” She shook her head, which forced him to lower his hand least he cut her with his claws. “I guess, I was wondering… Did you always intend to bring me here? To Mist Haven?”
Now he was certain. His miko desired more.
“No, I had anticipated taking you to my shiro. Unfortunately, it is no longer an option. At least, not presently.”
A frown pinched her black brows. “Why not?”
Wasn’t it obvious? “It is the first place Inuyasha will take your sister in search of you.”
Kagome’s eyes widened. “You think they’re hunting us?” She sounded appalled.
He lifted a skeptic brow. “You don’t?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded in obvious reluctance. “You’re probably right.” Then she sighed, shoulders sagging, before looking away. “Just this morning Kikyo had tried to purify you.” She stared at his face, at the patch of mottled flesh along his left cheek, then lower. At the center of his chest, his garments were a charred ruin, revealing the ugly wounds spread across his flesh. Her expression was sad. “I’m sorry for that. Had I known she would do something so…underhanded, I never would have had you meet her.”
“You have no reason to apologize. You are not to blame for another’s actions.”
Rather than agree with him, she said, “Your wounds need tending.”
“There is nothing that time cannot fix.”
Kagome hesitated, clearly wanting to protest.
Sesshomaru shook his head, then ushered Kagome to a low table where she could relax and be comfortable. At the edge was a small bell, and with a flick of his wrist, a twinkling chime rang through the air. With a small spell infused within the bell, the servants’ quarters would hear the ring and know from where the summons came.
Not noticing his quick ring, Kagome asked, face troubled, “Won’t Inuyasha find us here? I know we’re a long way from where they’d made camp, and we’re high up in the mountains, but Inuyasha isn’t ningen. It won’t be long before they’re banging on the door.”
“Be at ease. As I said, few know of Mist Haven. Here, we shall have privacy.” His lips curled, lust tightening his body. Even wounded, he wanted her. Would he ever cease? He doubted it. Accepted it.
Kagome sucked in a sharp gasp, a blush tinting her cheeks at his heated regard. She cleared her throat. “Why…doesn’t he know about this place?”
Withholding a resigned sigh, he ignored his lust to satiate her curiosity. “Mist Haven’s purpose was to assure the safety of the previous daimyo’s offspring while they were still pups. There are many who would seek advantage over the Lord of the Western Lands and not hesitate using a pup as leverage. Or, to exterminate direct descendants.”
“Who would—?! To hurt a child is unforgivable.” Then she paused, reflecting. “You were raised here? With other siblings, ah, pups?”
“My father sired no pups other than myself.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “And Inuyasha.” Not wishing to speak of the half-breed, he continued. “I was born under this roof where I resided with my mother until I reached an age of maturity. At which point, my father came for me to take up residence at The Western Shiro.”
Curiosity lit her face. “How old were you when your father came to get you?”
“I believe the equivalent in ningen years would be roughly ten summers.”
“So young.” A murmur. “Surely, the danger remained as you were still a…pup.”
The way she continued to stumble over the unfamiliar term was oddly…endearing. “Old enough to be taken under my father’s wing without being a glaring vulnerability.”
“I get the impression your father didn’t live here with you and your mother.” Another delicately phrased question.
He indulged her inquisitiveness. “No. As Lord of the West, his place was to rule, not to oversee the rearing of young.”
“Did he ever visit you?”
Sesshomaru nodded once. “At regular intervals.” The sadness he saw reflected in Kagome’s gaze lessened at his answer, if not fully dissipating.
“A child needs his father,” she murmured. “Lord of the West… What exactly does that mean?”
He’d wondered when she would ask, unsurprised that she—as a ningen—was unaware of the significance of his title. “There are four major daimyo who reign over youkai society, their territories separated by region: North, South, East, and West.”
Eyes wide, the miko’s lips parted but no words emerged, only to jerk in surprise when there was a light knock outside the door.
Calling over his shoulder, he bade the maid to enter before instructing, “Fetch the miko refreshments. Water, sake, and nourishment. Along with a fresh haori for myself.”
Seeing how Kagome continued to cast fretful glances at the worst of his injuries, he thought it best to divert her attention.
“Shall I bring provisions for cleansing, Sesshomaru-sama? Or have the baths prepared for you?”
“No.” He would bathe later. “Now go.” For now, he wished to see to his miko’s needs. He could hear the rumbling of her stomach.
With a respectful bow, the servant left, enclosing them within the residence’s ima chamber meant for the daimyo and his family to come together. The room was wide and extravagantly furnished. Along the backwall was a raised platform, padded with thick tatami mats, and bordered by an intricately crafted railing on three sides, with lush pillows to recline against. Soft, cream hued tatami mats cushioned the ima’s floor, while the walls were painted in artful swirls of blues and white depicting a flowing waterfall, along with a flowing stream and delicate birds scattered about, their wings spread in flight.
In addition to the low table they were seated around, there was an ornate bureau pressed up against one wall, with decorative fans gracing the surface, alone with a writing desk in one corner, and a beautifully crafted cabinet filled with costly pieces of fine art. Back in the hallway were three bedchambers, one for pups and separate quarters for the lord and lady of the residence. Each chamber had its own attached veranda with build in privacy screens that overlooked the gardens. The ima was the only room inside or out intended for the daimyo’s family to gather together. Though a bed graced the room, the platform was meant for lounging with the family.
Memories surfaced, called to mind by familiar sights and scents. He’d spent much of his time here in study, his lessons overseen by the watchful eyes of several tutors—or even his parents.
“You really should let me see to your injuries,” Kagome insisted softly. “At least let the servants bring a bowl so I can wash away the grime.”
“You may attend to me later.” At his suggestive grin, she squirmed, delighting him with her innocent flush.
Kagome was quick to divert him of any lustful activities, however. “If Mist Haven’s purpose is to safeguard the Western Lord’s children, wouldn’t that imply Inuyasha had been raised here? Unless…his being hanyou affected that arrangement.”
Thoughts of the half-breed never failed to twist Sesshomaru’s heart with utter repugnance. “The hanyou was raised elsewhere with his hime mother.”
“A hime… So, his mother was also of fine breeding.”
Sesshomaru barely held back a snort at her words, biased by his own feelings on the subject.
“Did your father visit him, too?”
Face stiffening, Sesshomaru’s voice was hard. “No.”
Pain flashed in her eyes, along with wariness. “Why?” Though hesitant, she was relentless.
Only because he understood her so well did he perceive her underlying question: did his father care nothing for Inuyasha?
The words were pulled from him, each syllable leaving a noxious taste. “My father was no longer amongst the living.” Because he’d fallen in battle. Hatred swirled in Sesshomaru’s heart, remembering.
Before she could press him further—and knowing she would, he purposefully shifted the conversation, if slightly, preventing questions he had no intention of answering. His voice was devoid of emotion. “By the time Inuyasha was of an age where he could be brought to The Western Shiro for guidance and training, I had already been lord for a number of years.”
And he’d be damned before allowing the evidence of his father’s folly to step one foot within the sacred halls of his castle.
As though hearing his thoughts, Kagome concluded, “You never sent for him.” Her tone was gentle. Not accusatory, but sad.
He sensed it, an underlying moral judgement. And it chaffed.
Kikyo’s biting words rose, unbidden. “He is your family, regardless! It was your duty to watch over him, to protect and guide him!”
The smile twisting his lips was cruel, he knew. “I never sent for him.” An acknowledgment. He let Kagome see his enmity. Didn’t try to hide his aversion. Nor did he offer any excuses.
Let her judge him. Revile him. She didn’t understand. Nor did he wish her to. His father’s actions had brought disgrace upon his bloodline. Pride kept Sesshomaru silent. Even had he been so inclined to reveal every detestable detail, it would change nothing. His reasons for despising Inuyasha would make no difference, not to her. Kagome was a creature of disgusting depths of compassion.
Whereas he was selfish. Egocentric.
He was youkai, an inugami. It was best Kagome remembered whom she consorted with. Not even the changes she’d wrought within him by her warm goodness could reach the very core of him. He was who he was. A creature of darkness.
When she remained silent with that ever-present hint of sadness, he gnashed his fangs, hearing her sister’s accusations anew.
Making him realize, he didn’t want Kagome to hate him. Grudgingly, he relented. To a point. “The boy’s mother died when he was young. I did not send for him,” he repeated, voice hard. And yet, he justified, “Instead, I sent him away. To another of my smaller holdings, far in the country. There he remained, until he left of his own accord.”
When Sesshomaru saw a flicker of surprise, then approval, he dashed the admiration from her eyes. “I cared nothing for him. If not for my father’s blood running through his veins, I would have left him to his fate. My obligation to him began the day his mother died, and only because he was hardly more than a pup. That obligation concluded the day he left the villa.”
Her voice was quiet, careful when she spoke after a short pause. “You’re being surprisingly candid.”
Sesshomaru understood her puzzlement. Up until recently, he’d been disinclined to share anything about himself with her—save for carnal pleasure, and darker inclinations. “Things have changed since our first encounter, wouldn’t you agree?” He forced lightness to his tone.
Another knock on the door. Summoning them, the two maids entered. When one tried to assist him in removing his ruined garments, Kagome was quick to offer to help him herself. Amused by her display of jealousy, he allowed her to serve him, while refusing the nagajuban provided. Secretly, he was pleased by Kagome’s possessiveness—aroused, even.
While he changed, the servants performed the task of setting the table with bowls of fresh fruit, cooked fish, and rice. Along with an ewer of water and a flask of sake. Once he was dressed in fresh clothing, he and Kagome returned to the low table, where he dismissed the maids with a flick of his wrist. Wordlessly, he reached for the flask, and Kagome promptly intercepted him.
His reflexes were faster. Had he wished, he could have easily reached the bottle before her. Instead, he allowed her to pour for him, but when she moved to set the sake aside, his words were silken smooth, compelling. “You forgot to pour for yourself.”
“Thank you, but no.”
“It is discourteous to deny a lord his hospitality.”
“I am unaccustomed in the indulgence of spirits,” Kagome hedged, uneasy.
His grin was wicked as he forcefully shoved the distasteful subject they’d been discussing from his mind. He had much more pleasurable designs planned for Kagome as he teased, “Are you saying you have never been drunk, miko?”
At the use of her honorific, she glared, but there was a twinkle in her eyes as she regarded him. “Drunkenness is unbecoming a miko.”
He chuckled, the sound filled with dark promise. “It would appear I have much yet to teach you.” His next question was an abrupt shift, returning to the original matter. It was important she understood her place by his side. “Did you believe I had brought you to Mist Haven to hide our involvement? That I might be embarrassed to be seen with you?”
Kagome blinked quickly, caught off-guard, before wincing and looking away. “The thought had crossed my mind,” was her soft admission. Then she met his gaze. “Until now, I wasn’t sure what manner of lord you were, but I could guess you are someone of great prominence by how the proprietors at the daemon market had shown you such difference. And your indifference about spending what I believe to be an exorbitant cost.”
In a nervous gesture, he watched her finger the silver torc at her throat, the metal engraved with arcane symbols, and embedded with a pure white crystal at the center. His blood never failing to heat at the sight of his ownership, but the ornament paled in comparison to his mark of possession that was hidden by the collar of her haori.
“Now I learn that you are not only a lord, but one of great distinction,” she continued, pulling him from erotic musings.
Her shrug was small. Helpless. “I am not a hime. I don’t come from even the lowest of noble bloodlines. I’m just a simple woman, who’d been raised in a remote and humble village. I’m not even youkai. I’m ningen, and a miko. We couldn’t be more dissimilar. It’s obvious that we do not…suit. I guess, I wouldn’t have been surprised had you wished to keep our…involvement hidden. I can’t imagine your subjects approving.”
Sesshomaru listened without interrupting. When she finally went quiet, she fidgeted when he did not immediately fill the silence.
“Well? Say something,” she pleaded, tense.
Leaning forward, Sesshomaru purposefully went against proper etiquette by pouring her a drink, the scent of spirits strong to his heightened senses. Then he set the flask aside, and lifted his own cup, quirking a single brow. “Ridiculous. As if I need the approval of others. You. Are. Mine. Now, drink, aijin. Your next lessen in indulgence begins. Immediately.”